


the things I believe (and you)

by thedisassociation



Series: We Are Not Stable Bodies (Lessons in Gravitational Collapse) [3]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who, Bering and Wells AU Week, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisassociation/pseuds/thedisassociation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The universe is full of constants. Helena is not one of them (yet). Another Doctor!Myka ficlet for AU Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the things I believe (and you)

There are constants in the universe. Rules, laws, boundaries, fixed points that cannot and must not be changed. The Doctor knows them better than any other being. She knows them and believes in them. When she travels alone, when her companions leave her or she leaves them, they are all she has left. They are what she believes in when she cannot believe in anything else.

There are constants and there is H.G. Wells. _Helena_ , she corrects herself. There is Helena, whose gravitational force rivals the densest bodies in all of existence (and the Doctor knows her dense bodies, thank you very much). The Doctor likes to say that Helena might as well be her own planet for the way everything seems to circle around her, how things push together and pull apart in her presence. Helena gives her a smile when she does, takes it as a compliment. The Doctor is only partially joking.

Myka is used to pulling people into adventures, friends and companions and complete strangers who happen to be in the vicinity. But on the occasion where she crosses paths with Helena, and by extension, the Warehouse, she is often the one to be pulled in, a bit of passing space debris passing by a lonely planet determined to get itself a new moon.

Despite her resistance, she is always drawn to Helena, always sucked in. She barely gets one foot out the door of the TARDIS before Helena is grabbing at her, pulling her down behind some large wooden crates stacked haphazardly in the corner of a large warehouse that she sees instantly is not _the_ Warehouse. It’s a normal warehouse in a fairly peaceful solar system that Myka hasn’t even thought about in years.

An errant burst of electricity passes nearby, hitting the TARDIS, which remains undamaged and undisturbed. “Huh,” Myka mutters. “Looks like a few things have changed in this system since my last visit.”

“Doctor,” Helena greets her. (Myka thinks maybe one day she could tell Helena her real name, could make Helena gasp her true name in a fit of passion, could make this woman come undone at the touch of her hands and lips and —)

“You’re just in time,” Helena goes on.

The Doctor nods and peaks out from around the edge of the crates. “Is that Steve?” she asks. The man she knows as a generally calm and stoic presence is pacing frantically, kicking at a collection of crates nearby.

Helena nods. “Yes,” she replies. “He’s been hit by an artifact, I’m afraid.”

“That’s pretty common for Warehouse agents,” Myka says. “Always has been,” she adds.

(She thinks of an encounter with an artifact-addled agent in the early 2000s. That would have been hundreds of years ago by Helena’s count; she would have still been in bronze then. One day, when Myka thinks about the effects that a given artifact can have on an agent, she’ll think of an encounter with a particularly strong-willed and grief-stricken agent in Victorian London, someone she will know well but who won’t know her. It will hurt like hell.)

“Yes, I’m familiar with that,” Helena says. “Thank you for your expertise.”

The Doctor blinks. “Happy to help,” she smirks. “Was that all you needed?”

“Actually, darling, I could use a diversion, someone to distract Agent Jinks while I get around the back and neutralize the artifact,” Helena explains. She blinks for a moment and something on her face shifts, the bravado and charm slipping for a moment into something more honest and open that Myka doesn’t know what to do with (it is not one of the constants she has prepared for).

“And I wanted to see you,” Helena adds. “Time tends to move linearly for those of us without time machines like yours,” she says. “I…have missed you.”

Myka realizes that Helena is incredibly close somehow. The Doctor is caught in orbit, stuck somewhere in the great distance that exists in the mere inches between them. She takes a deep breath, feels the way her lungs expand, and watches Helena do the same. It would be so easy to lean forward, close the distance between them. It would be so easy to pull back. She knows which one she _should_ do.

“I missed you, too,” she says honestly. Helena shifts closer and the Doctor lets her, foolishly shifts closer herself.

There are the things that she believes. And there is Helena.

(One day, Helena will become one of Myka’s constants and they’ll break each other’s hearts.)

“So will you be my diversion?” Helena asks.

“Anytime."

"Be careful, Doctor, or I may take you up on that."

"I know."


End file.
